I am Umbrella, My Whereabouts Are Unknown…

Yesterday I lost my umbrella. This was not the first time. But I am relatively new to the mechanics of this foldable, easy to carry and easy to lose rain avoidance implement.

I grew up in a city where it rained, rained and rained some more; year-round precipitation in Portland, Oregon often tops 42 inches per year. Imagine that: almost four feet of the wet stuff falling around 10 months out of the year. You’d assume I had fallen in line and learned proper umbrella management by now. But no one used umbrellas. Portland is the home of the American rainwear industry- Columbia Sportswear began here in a Sellwood home turned outlet turned global outdoor brand. So all the coats you buy are usually Gore-Tex hooded ones. The antithesis of wet and damp, these nylon jackets make carrying an umbrella from home to work, dinner to nightcap wholly unnecessary.

That couldn’t be farther from the truth. In my 3-odd years living in Japan I have lost at least a dozen umbrellas of varying ownership, quality and price. Others have been bent back during typhoons or due to operator error. It seems to be a male trait, but that may lie in the fact that males work in higher proportion to females in Japan, many umbrellas get left behind at work-related sites- train stations, video shops, convenience stores and bars.

The umbrella racket is a seller’s market. Try to shop around and find a good umbrella during good weather. It’s my private paranoia coming to the forefront here, but I think merchants hide the good ones, hoarding them for the knowing umbrella-toting elite. And there are some good ones out there. Umbrellas with leopard print, to match leopard tights and a leopard shirt so loved by Osaka’s army of late-to-middle aged women.

When an umbrella’s wet, it’s not easily handled. You can’t put it on the train’s rack. You lean it against some vertical surface, think about something else suddenly, your train arrives and you impulsively pile on. Umbrella industry 1, pocket money 0.

Luckily in Japan, there are several forgotten goods offices at train station termini, and one can call and be reunited with their helpful, selfless nylon and aluminum workhorse. But a call placed to such a place yesterday was fruitless. Someone, somewhere is enjoying my $9.00 bent beauty, which smells slightly of several instances where it didn’t quite dry. Rest in peace, umbrella kun, and may you be reincarnated as a Totes, to live and protect again.

I have to go now, I’ve just left my wallet on the bus…